


Sweet Treats

by SherlockianWhovian



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cages, Dessert & Sweets, Detective Rogers Whump, Forced Weight Gain, Hansel and Gretel Elements, One Shot, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 09:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14590179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianWhovian/pseuds/SherlockianWhovian
Summary: Gothel decides that Detective Rogers is in her way and hands him off to the Blind Witch aka the blind baker in Hyperion Heights.





	Sweet Treats

“Evening, Detective.” Gothel smirked as she let herself into Rogers’ parked car.

“What are you doing here, Eloise?” Rogers asked as he looked over the suspected cult leader, “Here to bump me off like the others?”

Gothel laughed, “I don’t want to kill you, Detective.” she said, watching him drink from his takeaway cup, “How is your tea?”

Rogers drank down the remaining drops of tea and put the empty cup down in the foot-well, “My tea was fine. What are you here for?”

“I really don’t want to kill you just yet.” she said, “But there’s no doubt that you’ve been getting in the way of my plans and that needs to stop.”

Rogers frowned as a wave of dizziness hit him and he reached out to steady himself on the steering wheel, “What did you do?”

“I slipped a little concoction of my own making into your order. It won’t damage you in any way but it will make you sleep for a little while.” she explained, reaching over and taking his gun and phone from him as he began to slump in his seat, “Don’t you worry though, where you’re going you’ll be well looked after. You certainly won’t need to worry about going hungry.”

“No, you can’t do this…” Rogers protested feebly as sleep began to pull at his consciousness, “Weaver-”

“Weaver won’t even notice you’re gone.” she smirked, “You’ll be just another in a long line of Weaver’s missing partners.”

“No, please…” he begged, trying and failing to keep his eyes open.

“Sleep.” she soothed, quietly humming a soft lullaby until he was deeply asleep.

 

\---

 

Rogers woke slowly, the sweltering heat around him finally rescuing him from enforced unconsciousness. He kept his eyes closed for a few moments, listening to the sounds around him and focusing on what he could feel. His tight jeans, shirt and jacket were gone, replaced with a looser and thinner set of trousers and a shirt. He was grateful for the wardrobe change; he knew he’d be melting in the heat with his regular clothing.

“I know you’re awake. Open your eyes, pretty thing.” came a woman’s voice from nearby.

Rogers slowly opened his eyes and they went wide when he found himself in a small cage, a large oven burning hot nearby and the blind baker stood a few feet away.

“You!” he gasped, “What the hell is going on here? Let me out!”

She turned to face him, her unseeing eyes fixed on him and a tray of gingerbread men in one hand, “I can’t let you out, not until you’re ready for the oven.” she said with a dark chuckle.

“Did Eloise set this up? Whatever she’s got on you, I can help you-” he began.

She approached, amusement on her face, “She’s not blackmailing me. Gothel needed somewhere to keep you out of the way, I volunteered.” she smirked, “You’re going to be the first to be cooked in my oven here in Hyperion Heights, you should be honoured.”

“Honoured?!” he spluttered, “You’re planning my murder!”

“It won’t be murder, you’ll be quite willing when the time comes.” the baker explained with a roll of her eyes, “It’ll probably take months to fatten you up, you’ll have plenty of time to come to terms with your fate. It’s a slow and peaceful death, there’s hardly any pain.”

“You’re sick!” he snarled, beginning to rattle the bars of the cage in an attempt to find a weakness, “If you think that I’m just going to stay imprisoned in here then think again.”

The baker sighed and placed the tray of gingerbread men on the ledge beside the cage, well within his grasp, “You can try and escape but you’ll fail.” she said, “Now, when you get hungry, help yourself to a sweet treat. I’ve made them all for you so don’t worry if you eat them all.”

“I’m not eating anything from you.” he hissed, moving as far away from her and the gingerbread men as he could whilst in the cage.

“They all say that.” she soothed, “But soon you won’t be able to stop yourself.”

 

\---

 

For two days, Rogers starved himself and kept his gaze averted from the sweet treats that the baker had piled up on the ledge beside his cage. Soon however, the hunger pains in his stomach grew worse and he could barely sit up he was so weak and lightheaded.

Reluctantly, he reached through the bars and picked up a gingerbread man. He examined it and broke it into smaller pieces before he took a small, cautious bite. He couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped his throat, as he tasted the flavour of the treat. It was delicious, the perfect balance of sweetness and stickiness without being too sickly.

He finished off the pieces of the first gingerbread man before he reached for a second, not even bothering to break that into pieces before he took a bite. He devoured each gingerbread treat as quickly as the last, until he’d gotten through three trays and his hunger was finally sated.

He lay back in the cage, closing his eyes and resting a hand on his bloated stomach as he let the sugary foods go down. It was very rare that he allowed himself to have sugary treats, he usually kept to a strict diet to aid his time spent in the gym, so it was nice to indulge for once even if the entire situation was both odd and terrifying.

“I’m so glad that you’ve given up on that starving yourself nonsense.” the baker said when she arrived in the basement with a new tray of baked goods, “You may as well enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

“I was so hungry.” Rogers replied, feeling a little ashamed at giving in so easily.

“You must tell me all of your favourite sweet treats.” she declared, placing a tray of cinnamon buns down beside the cage, “I like to make treats that my guests will enjoy.”

 

\---

 

For three weeks, Rogers lived in the cage in the basement, surviving only on sugary drinks and sweet treats made by the baker. He was allowed out from the cage twice a day to use the basement’s small bathroom but the small amount of exercise wasn’t nearly enough to prevent him losing his muscle definition and putting on weight.

He’d considered trying to escape during his first trip to the bathroom, but he’d put it off, deciding to sate his hunger again before making any real attempt - despite days and days having now passed, he’d not made any attempts to escape.

As he settled himself on his side in the cage again, the baker reached in and gently prodded his stomach, “Definite progress.” she said with a twisted smile, “But still a long way to go for you.”

“The police are out there right now looking for me.” Rogers said, “When they find me, you’ll be jailed for false imprisonment.”

“I doubt they’ll find you down here.” she replied, moving around the cage and placing new treats within his reach, “But even if they did find you, they’d probably leave you in my care.”

“Why would they do that?” Rogers asked with a frown, his hand unconsciously reaching out to pick up one of the freshly baked sticky jam doughnuts.

“If only you could see yourself.” she smirked, watching him eat the doughnut, “You belong here now. Anyone could see that you’re a pig and pigs need to be fattened up for the oven.”

“I’m not a pig.” Rogers hissed, licking the jam from his fingers.

“Is that right? Then stop eating, piggy. Ignore those sweet treats if you can.” she chuckled, turning away and leaving the basement.

Rogers glared at her and glared at the doughnuts too, intending to ignore them and go hungry. He barely lasted a few minutes before he was reaching for one, his craving too strong to ignore. He was so busy enjoying the delicious sticky goodness that he didn’t even consider that the treats themselves were laced with magic to cause his addiction to them.

 

\---

 

“Detective! Detective Rogers, wake up!” a frantic voice pulled him from his slumber. He’d gorged himself on two dozen cream pastries and the warmth from the nearby oven had sent him right off to sleep. He made a vague attempt to sit up before he decided that it wasn’t worth the effort and prepared to let sleep take him again. The joy and pleasure he now felt when he sated his cravings was unlike anything he’d ever felt before and he’d long stopped dreaming of escape or rescue; he dreamed of trays and trays of sweet treats followed by the warm, comfortable embrace of the oven.

“Detective Rogers!” the panicked voice made him open his eyes and he found himself face-to-face with Tilly, the strange girl from the streets he’d once given marmalade sandwiches to.

“Tilly. It’s good to see you.” he said with a sleepy smile, reaching out for a chocolate truffle.

“Don’t let him eat anything!” Weaver’s voice called and Tilly grabbed Rogers’ hand before he could pick up a chocolate.

“I’m sorry it’s taken us so long to find you, but we’re here now.” she apologized with a sheepish smile, “Weaver is just working on the lock on the cage and then we can escape.”

“Escape?” he repeated as though it were the strangest thing he’d ever heard, “Why would I want to escape? I have everything I could ever need here.”

Tilly looked him over with a sad smile, “You think that now, but you’ll understand when the drugs wear off.”

“Got it!” Weaver declared, pulling the cage door open, “We need to move fast, we don’t have long.”

Tilly nodded and helped Weaver to manhandle the lethargic detective out of the cage. He was stable on his feet and supported his own weight as they led him along, but he constantly attempted to move towards the baker’s sweet treats.

“There are more of those where we’re taking you. Many more.” Weaver lied, forcing Rogers up the stairs of the basement and out to the waiting car.

“I’m so hungry.” Rogers complained, his hand moving to rest on his swollen belly once he was sat in the car.

“The baker has made something special for you. An entire house made of chocolate and candy.” Tilly lied as she sat beside Rogers in the back of the car, buckling the seat-belt around him.

“An entire house?” he repeated with wide eyes, staring at her.

She nodded, taking out some wet wipes from her bag and using them to clean his face and hand of stickiness and candy residue, “It’s really impressive, but you need to go back to sleep and ignore your cravings if you want to see it.”

Rogers nodded seriously and closed his eyes, letting himself fall back to sleep as Weaver drove the car to the hospital.

 

\---

 

Rogers woke three days later in a hospital bed, the craving magic having finally worn off.

“Morning, how are you feeling?” Weaver asked from his bedside, looking up from a case file.

“Sick.” Rogers admitted with a frown, “What happened?”

Weaver chuckled, “I’m not surprised, you ate your bodyweight in cakes and sweets a hundred times over during the last month.” he said, “Tilly and I rescued you, you’ve been here for the last few days while the doctors worked on getting you off the drugs.”

“Drugs?” Rogers questioned.

“You don’t really think that you craved sweets that badly without drugs, do you?” Weaver teased, “Each treat was laced with an ingredient to make you crave it. The more you ate, the more you craved.”

“And the baker?” Rogers asked.

“Dead. That’s how we found you. She’d been killed by a serial killer and the door to the basement was partially open.” he explained.

Rogers nodded a little, “Has anyone else seen me like this?”

Weaver shook his head, “Just Tilly, the doctors and I.” he assured, “It won’t be as hard as you think to get back in shape. You haven’t put on that much extra weight.”

“Thank you for rescuing me.” Rogers said softly, “I was all for climbing into that oven.”

Weaver nodded, “We’re partners, partners look out for each other.”

Tilly bounced into the room with a chess-set under her arm, “You’re awake!”

“Tilly.” Rogers greeted with a warm smile, watching her come closer to the bed and set up the board on the table between them.

“White or black?” she asked before she frowned, “Silly me, you’re always black.”

Rogers reached out as she spun the board so the black pieces were in front of him. His fingers landed on one of the rooks and he paused for a moment, feeling a connection to the piece but he wasn’t quite sure what.

“Ready?” she prompted, glancing between him and the rook.

“Aye. Your move.” Rogers replied with a smile, sitting up a little more and waiting to see what her first move would be.


End file.
